


turn my insides out and smother me

by epoenine



Category: Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins
Genre: Anxiety, F/F, Nightmares, PTSD, idk how to tag this what the heckie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-06
Updated: 2013-12-06
Packaged: 2018-01-03 14:57:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,057
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1071791
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/epoenine/pseuds/epoenine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>And they’re really, really not the type to sugar coat things. No offerings of tea and cookies, no small talk. Their conversations are sharp, getting to the point with no time for side comments.</p>
            </blockquote>





	turn my insides out and smother me

**Author's Note:**

> title is from smother me by the used, i hope you enjoy reading this !!

The primroses are in full bloom, and that might be why Katniss is on edge, but no one really knows. Just on the cusp of spring, the pale light floods through the bedroom window and a chill sets in the air.

Katniss didn’t sleep at all last night, not with Peeta next to her. She couldn’t find a way to even out her breathing, stop being so aware of another person next to her. A person who could kill her.

She sighs, and tries to prepare herself for the day. Eating, bathing, hunting, facing Peeta. Sleeping. Or, in her case, not sleeping.

In a bed that’s half empty, Katniss rolls over and shivers as her feet touch the cold floor. Peeta’s already gone, like he has been every day this week. Katniss doesn’t hold him too it. They both have bad days. So what if it’s just turning into a bad week, bad month, bad year?

It was expected, really, they both have been through so much. Every single one of them have.

Sometimes Katniss thinks about losing herself in drink like Haymitch did, and she thinks about throwing her life away when Prim didn’t even live until fourteen. Then, she goes up to her room, locks the door, and doesn’t come out for the rest of the day.

The nightmares have become more prominent for both of them. Peeta’s arms don’t make them go away anymore. Not like they used to, now that Peeta has those flashbacks so often.

Sleeping is hard for both of them.

Walking down the stairs, Katniss pulls the shrug over her shoulders. She stands in the kitchen, slicing bread that Peeta has made. Pulling the bread into pieces, she pours herself a glass of water, drinking it until it’s gone.

There’s a knock at the door, and Katniss walks towards it, cautious and hesitant, almost expecting Snow to be standing outside. Except that’s ridiculous, since Snow is dead.

Katniss figures it’s Haymitch, pulling open the door, saying, “I don’t have any alcohol, if that’s--” It’s not Haymitch. “Oh.”

“Really, brainless? Two months without hearing from you and all I get is an _oh_?” Johanna asks, smirking, walking past Katniss and into the house. “Nice place you got. Better than mine.” She pauses, her hand faltering on the fabric of the chair by the door, and Katniss looks at her oddly. “I don’t remember much from the Victory Tour.” Katniss winces. “It all went too fast for me to pick up on anything. Twelve is kind of dull, anyway. Just mountains and fields, I guess. It’s not Eleven, though--that’s one’s really dull. Too many Peacekeepers.” Katniss stays silent, and Johanna raises her eyebrow. “Are you going to talk, or are you back to being mute?”

“What are you doing here?” Katniss asks. The words leave from her throat with a croak, her voice hoarse.

“I was in the neighbourhood and thought I’d drop by,” Johanna says, sarcastic as ever. “Wanted to see what you’ve been up to, how you’re dealing with the PTSD.” She flashes a grin. “How’s Peeta?”

“He’s fine,” Katniss answers, wary of Johanna’s questions. “Is there a real reason you’re here or not?”

And they’re really, really not the type to sugar coat things. No offerings of tea and cookies, no small talk. Their conversations are sharp, getting to the point with no time for side comments.

Johanna’s smile falters. “I haven’t slept in nine days,” she explains. “They gave me caffeine, but that only takes care of the sluggishness.” Johanna runs a hand through her short, choppy brown hair. She looks tired. That doesn’t even cut it, really, she looks exhausted and worked to the bone. “Morphling is what used to do it, I think. Put me to sleep in seconds. Except they cut me off. Stopped sending me my supply.”

Katniss notices the bruises that speckle her arm, suddenly turning cold. “I’m not going to give you any morphling.”

“I haven’t asked for any, have I?” Johanna says, gives a self deprecating smile, and closes her eyes. There are bags under her eyelids, the color of the bruises. She looks weaker than before.

“What did you come for, then?” Katniss questions, her voice hard with an edge of softness. She tries not to pity Johanna.

“I haven’t slept in nine days,” she repeats, and her voice sounds broken. “It was easier, you know. The nightmares were easier to manage back in Thirteen.”

“Nightmares?” Katniss asks. “You still get them?” she blurts, and immediately regrets it.

“Of course I still get them,” Johanna answers. “They’re not about the arena anymore, though. I’ve stopped having those kinds a while ago.” Katniss stays silent. “No more dead tributes and kids just trying to stay alive. This time they’re Peacekeepers, laughing while they--” Johanna’s voice breaks off.

“Have you tried sleep syrup?” Katniss asks. “What about the morphling, I’m sure you could get it from--”

“I haven’t slept in nine days, Katniss,” Johanna whispers, her voice cracking. “It was easier back in Thirteen, the nightmares were easier to fight off with someone beside me.” Katniss lets out a breath of air, dropping her eyes. Johanna reaches into her coat pocket, pulling something out. “It’s dead.”

Katniss is hesitant to take it from her, but she does, unfolding the white cloth to reveal dead pine needles. “Oh.”

“It helped for a while,” Johanna explains. “But it’s not you.” She pauses. “And I’m not--I don’t know how to cope with this, and it was _easier_ with you, but now you’re gone, and my bed is empty.”

Katniss surprises Johanna, since they’re both not big huggers, but she still pulls Johanna into her embrace, wrapping arms around her and breathing in.

Seconds pass, and Katniss releases her.

“Come on,” Katniss says, taking Johanna’s hand and leading her down the hallway, up the stairs.

“What are you doing?” Johanna asks, following Katniss anyway.

“I’m here now,” Katniss says, simply. She pulls Johanna into the bedroom, where they both lie on the bed, which is when protests come out of the girl’s mouth. “There won’t be any nightmares this time.”

Johanna can feel herself slipping into sleep, breathing in the smell of forests and clean sheets. Her eyes flutter closed, and she swears she can feel lips against her cheek before sleep takes her.

 

**Author's Note:**

> you can find me on tumblr at prouvairie  
> thanks for reading!


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